For sale, the girl with bad grades
by saaammm
Summary: My name is Amelia Rose, and I'm a high school failure. I've disgraced my parents with my bad grades, and as a result, I'm being sent away to live with a fucking cult...oh, did I mention? There's a marriage involved somewhere. Stick in school kids. You never know what'll fucking happen if you fail.


As if. As if I fucking have to go live with a cult. Are my parents insane? My grades weren't even that bad, we can't all be doctors mum and dad! Well, looking at this shitty piece of paper, I suppose I could've done better...

Amelia Rose GCSE results:

English Language: D

English Literature: C-

Maths: D-

Physics: U

Chemistry: E

Biology: U

Performing arts: A*

ICT: Pass

German: D

To the parents/guardians of Miss Amelia Rose,

We regrettably inform you that Amelia did not achieve the necessary grades to attend Delta's Academy for girls sixth form next year. However, we wish her luck for her future, and hope that the next path she chooses leads her to success.

With kind regards,

Maxine Delta.

Headmistress of Delta's Academy for girls.

Kind regards my fucking arse. The bitch hated me ever since I smacked her bitch of a daughter for being a bitch...like mother like daughter. I didn't want to go to her stupid sixth form anyway. Why would I want to spend another two years being kept away from boys for like...eight hours a day?

I crumpled the paper in my hand and growled furiously, throwing it across the room, it just hitting the wall and falling pathetically to the ground. Much like my life. It hit a wall, and now it's in the process of falling pathetically to the ground.

I pulled my knees up to my chest as a sat on the floor, leaning back against my bed, my hands pulling my hair from my scalp in a frustrated fashion.  
Was this even legal? Selling your daughter to a cult? To go live with some family that I've never met? I'm sixteen, can't I move out or something? Run away...?

My dad said he used to be in the cult- though he prefers the term group instead- when he was my age.  
'It'll do you a whole lot of good young lady, I have never been so ashamed of you in my life.'

The thing is, I'm not even stupid, I could've at least gotten straight c's on everything else if I had tried. Just look at performing arts, I was in love with that subject, it's why I got a good mark...it also didn't have anything to do with the fact that the boys from the school across town had to come over to play parts in our performances for us.

If I liked any of my other subjects, I would've done a decent job in my exams. But in the rest of them, I felt like I was sitting in a Spanish lesson, but not ever learning a word of Spanish. I would've taken art if I was allowed, but mum and dad refused it. 'Amelia, we will not sit here and allow you to mess up your life by getting grades in subjects that will get you nowhere in life!'

Well the jokes on you now isn't it? Because I've messed up my life by getting bad grades in the subjects you actually care about.

I grabbed my pillow from the top of nearby packed box and buried my face into it, screaming loudly, stamping my feet like a toddler having a tantrum.

My little fit was interrupted by my little sister, age 12, knocking on my door and pushing it open, revealing her standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. The tears had left red marks down her pale cheeks and her eyes were puffy. She had obviously been crying for quite some time. Brianna looked nothing like any of us, due to the fact she was adopted. She had short blonde hair that fell to her chin, a blue hairband settled comfortably on the top of her head. Her full fringe just brushed the top of her big, black, square framed glasses. The glasses made her green eyes seem much bigger than they actually were, along with her lovely long eyelashes. She was a beautiful young girl with a quite angular face, she had the bones of a model. I always told her that. Brianna had natural beauty, she was tall and skinny and a total bookworm, if she didn't have her nose buried in a book, something was clearly wrong. Which meant there was now.

I sighed and moved the pillow away from me and held my arms out to her, to which she came running over and flung herself into them.  
"What's up Bree?" I murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"You're leaving, and I don't know if you'll ever be coming back!" She choked out and it made my heart wrench. It didn't matter that we weren't blood related. To me, I couldn't be closer related to her. We had even dyed my hair from its natural dark, chocolate colour to the same blonde as her, so we at least looked somewhat similar. I was an average height, not too tall and definitely not too short. I was also the average weight, not fat but nor can you see my bones. And I'm happy with that. I have the same sea blue eyes as my mum, I love them. They're so beautiful.

I took a deep breath and stood up with her, pulling her to lie down on my bed, falling down next to me. We both rolled over to face each other and I gave her a brave smile. "Don't you ever worry about that Bree. I will always come back to see you, whether this stupid cult likes it or not. You know I will" I murmured, wiping away her tears with her thumb. She choked a few times on her breathing before she nodded. "I'll miss you" she breathed.

My eyes stung slightly and I closed them, nodding. "I'll miss you more, always" This is what I hated my parents for most, taking her away from me.

"Can I stay in your bed tonight because it's your last night?" She almost begged, being greeted with her puppy dog eyes as I opened my own.

I just nodded silently and pulled the covers around us both, draping a lazy arm over her and closing my eyes once more. We lay there silently for about ten minutes before I spoke softly.

"Do me a favour Bree, you do your damn best in school and do me proud. Get the best grades you can" I whispered, my voice thick with exhaustion. I felt the movement of a nod on my pillow. "I promise"

It was another few minutes before the call from our mum came from down the stairs. "Dinner!" Her voice was sharp, most likely aimed at me. She was still furious.

Me and Bree answered in perfect sync as we shouted back the reply of: "Not hungry!"


End file.
